African Fire
by Rurouni Tyriel
Summary: (COMPLETED) An old foe from Evan’s past has resurfaced, and now he and the Morlocks must journey to Africa to confront him and rescue their friend from a most terrible evil. Is Evan ready to take the responsibility of leader upon his shoulders?
1. I

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own X-Men Evolution, though I wish I did.

**Summary:**

An old foe from Evan's past has resurfaced, and now he and the Morlocks must journey to Africa to confront him and rescue their friend from a most terrible evil.  Is Evan ready to take the responsibility of leader upon his shoulders?  And worse, can any defeat a foe who can bring out their most dreaded of fears?  This takes place right after 'Uprising.'

Spyke dropped down hard, splashing up water all around him as he landed on the sewer floor, and made his way down its myriad tunnels back to the Alley, where the others were waiting for him.

He arrived, tossing down the food he'd collected onto the only table that was present (raided from a garbage dump a few weeks prior) and sat down to one side as the starving Morlocks swarmed around the food, tearing open packages and gorging themselves as if they hadn't fed in ages.  It was an all too familiar sight, for food was scared in the Morlock home, and you never knew when you got more.  Still, always the others fed before Evan took any.  This time he managed to snag a carton of milk beforehand, however, and ripped open the top, drinking it in one gulp, the much needed calcium flooding his body, even as it dribbled down his chin.  He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"There was no trouble?" asked Callisto, coming up behind Evan and sitting down on the pipe next to him.

"None," he replied, not facing her.  "I wasn't even noticed."

"Good work Spyke," she said softly, giving him a gently (careful) pat on the back, smiling.

"Not good enough," he grumbled, shaking off her hand and standing, making his way into the sewers to be alone and brood.  He'd been doing it more and more frequently lately.  Truth be told, Callisto was worried about her second-in-command.  Ever since their skirmish with the mob he'd been in this perpetual black mood, doing what was required of him and nothing more.  It pained Callisto to see him suffer so.

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Evan growled as he reached an uninhabited part of the sewers, growing out some long, wickedly sharp spikes and slashing randomly at the walls in a vain attempt to let out his anger, shooting them in every direction as he growled in a berserker rage that would've done Sabertooth proud.  Finally, exhausted, he collapsed onto his knees in the sewer water, panting for breath, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

He had to be strong for the Morlocks, had to be their Guardian.  But no one could ever be there for Evan Daniels, he wouldn't let them.  He wouldn't let anyone see him struggle, ever again.

When that kid, the pale-skinned mutant boy, had used his power, his spikes had vanished, and Evan had been as he'd always dreamed.  Normal.  And it was gone, now he was covered in spikes from head to toe, that made him a freak and an outcast.  Even the other Morlocks would never understand him, for they'd never truly been normal to begin with.  They'd been born the way they were, most of them.  Only Callisto could truly pass on the surface without a cloak and hood, and even she was no beauty as far as the surface world was considered.

Evan thought she was beautiful though.

Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually.  She'd formed the Morlocks by sheer force of will, taking in those who most needed her care, and was willing to fight and die to protect them from the stupid, ignorant people who feared them.  Evan couldn't help but admire her.  But she would never care for him as anything but her second-in-command, or worse, a rival.  She'd already expressed her concerns over the Morlocks following him instead of her.

"Guess I owe you an apology, K-Man," he stated quietly to no one in particular.  When Kurt had first announced he was in love, Evan had scoffed at the notion.  Openly.  He'd never believed in love anyway, not in true, self-sacrificing love like the sort that took up those romance novels his mother and aunt loved so much.  The only love he'd seen had been his parents, and he'd never thought he'd ever fall for a girl that hard.  But he had.

Evan growled, drawing back in the few spikes he'd popped just for his hack and slash exercise, those that he still could, and walked back to rejoin the others.  It was getting late, and he would be needed for guard duty as the majority of the Morlocks went to get some sleep.

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Torpid watched Evan go, half-hidden behind an adjacent corridor.  Though not as quiet or unnoticeable as Façade, all Morlocks learned very quickly in order to survive, sometimes you had to be unnoticed.  She'd seen Evan's rampage, seen him cry, but couldn't bring herself to go over and comfort him.  She was scared of him, afraid this was a private moment, that he did not wish for intrusion.  But Torpid looked up to Evan, ever since he'd saved her at the Pow-R8 facility, and considered him her older brother.  Torpid thus kept out of sight as Evan trudged off back down the corridors, keeping out of view, and just sadly watched him go.

Torpid's history, like that of most Morlocks, was not pretty.  Since the emergence of her powers at such a young age, her mother left the family, claiming she was no child of hers.  Her father had turned to drinking, and one night he was pushed too far.  In a drunken rage he grabbed a kitchen knife and tried to kill Torpid, who'd used her powers for the first time to paralyze her father.  Unfortunately, his momentum carried him forward, and the knife was still in his hands, and he fell right atop of the sharp blade.  Torpid had not known what to do, how to save him.

He pierced his stomach, died perhaps an hour later from blood loss, aware of ever horrible detail right up until the light left his eyes.

The little Morlock girl known as Torpid had not said a word since that terrible day.

Callisto had come along her, starving in the alleyways, and given her a home.  Torpid saw her as the mother she never had, who never failed to be gentle with her, even in the rough and tumble lifestyle of the sewer mutants.  And now Evan came along, and he was their guardian, keeping all the Morlocks safe from mean, normal humans.  Just like her father had been.

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The Morlocks bedded down for the night, raising tents in the Alley to keep the moisture off their heads as they grabbed what sleeping blankets and rags they could and lay down on the cold, relatively dry floor of the Alley, falling asleep.  Spyke stood on guard, watching over them by the main entrance to the Alley, and even failing that Callisto or Calliban would sense intruders long before they reached them.  The candles were blown out, the lanterns extinguished, and the Alley was plunged into darkness for the night.

One by one they fell asleep, leaving only two awake.  Spyke, who stood by the door, leaning against the wall as he watched the sewer rats and swirling dark waters of the dark tunnels.  And one other, who's eye pierced the darkness to rest on Evan, watching him always.  Though Callisto felt safe enough to sleep, with Spyke guarding them, she did not feel perhaps so comfortable with her own thoughts right now.  Thoughts of Evan Daniels.

Callisto had never in her life cared for her beauty, never cared for the scar that graced her face or the patch that covered he wounded eye, but now she could not help but think of what Evan must think of her, compared to the normal looking girls he'd once known topside.  She must have been ugly and filthy, too muscled and harsh-tongued.  She had nothing to offer him, and he had given her and the Morlocks everything, the safety and security that she herself had been unable to provide.  Callisto sighed softly, though in the dark, empty cavern of the Alley, the sound carried, and Spyke glanced her way, seeing her silhouette amongst the shadows, and smiled.  She smiled back, her heart beating in her chest as she lay back and did her best to fall asleep, confident he would wake her before long to take her own shift.

Silence reigned in the Alley, as the inhabitants dreamed.

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**Author's Notes:**

Obviously, this story contains elements of a Callisto/Evan romance.  The first, I think, to appear in fan fiction.  Hope you all enjoy.


	2. II

In the sewers, during certain times of the year, temperature changes in the air and water could make fog.  Evan knew this, he'd paid attention in class enough to know that.  Which is why he was surprised when the Morlocks awoke in the morning, to see a very thick fog filling most of the tunnels and almost all of the Alley.  An unnaturally thick, chilling fog.

Callisto, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders like a cloak, grabbed her staff, as Spyke moved to stand alongside her, both tensing.  Instincts had taught them how to recognize danger, and this was one of those times.  Callisto couldn't sense anything though, or see anyone beyond the faces of her fellow Morlocks.

Suddenly a low, eerie whistling pierced the air, that Spyke recognized immediately.

"Get down!" he shouted, as the whistling pierced the fog, as the Morlocks ducked and dodged the flying barbed darts.

After that, chaos ensued.

Spyke was roughly knocked aside by a heavyset dark man, who's features were indistinct in the fog.  But Evan could clearly see tattooed onto his face the white skull-mark he'd seen before, when Auntie O had been captured, and he knew what it meant.

The Hungan.

He had no time to ponder this, however, as flaming spikes shot from his arms.  He had to defend the others.

Façade had vanished, none of the Morlocks or tribesman had seen where he'd gone, which was not surprising.  Torpid rushed over to Cybelle, out of the line of fire, as the two ducked down behind a pillar of broken stone, avoiding the toxic darts that filled the air, as well as a few machetes that were being thrown with deadly accuracy.  Lucid and Calliban had overturned the wooden table, using it as a shield as they searched for their opponents, while Spyke and Callisto caught the brunt of them.

Spyke threw up his left arm and jutted out some spikes quick, forming a makeshift shield to prevent him from being injured as he lay on the ground, unable yet to regain his feet.  Alongside him, Callisto twirled her iron staff through the air, deflecting the darts with the skill and gace Evan admired in her.  Unfortunately, it proved to be inadequate, as one such dart slipped past her guard and lodged itself into her neck.  Callisto growled, instinctively yanking it out and continuing, trying to make her way forward to combat the tribesmen.  A roar caught their attention, as Scaleface joined the fray, fighting off one of the tribesmen.  The fool tossed a bullwhip at her, wrapping it around her foreclaw in a vain attempt to prevent Scaleface from using it.  To his astonishment, the great lizard picked him up and tossed him aside, ripping the bullwhip off her arm with her massive teeth, snapping the thick leather like it was tissue paper.

The tribesmen had come prepared, however, three of their number tossing a great net over Scaleface and bringing her down, even as still more appeared, raining down darts on Evan as he finally managed to regain his feet, but remained pinned down, unable to go to Scaleface's assistance.  Calliban and Facade were quickly brought down by two more of the tribesmen, and the Morlocks were slowly being overwhelmed.  Cybelle had joined the fray with her deadly hands, but with the longer reach of her enemies weapons, it was ultimately proving to be not enough.

Spyke growled, the fear of seeing his newfound family harmed giving him incredible strength as he flung out his arms, jutting huge flaming spikes along them, as new bone plates slid into place to cover what little skin he had exposed, and he took off at a ran, launching himself at the tribesmen, flinging his flaming spikes with deadly accuracy.  Not to kill, for he remained enough of an X-Men to be abhored by the thought of dealing death, but to maim, to incapacitate, to disable and to disarm.  Three unfortunate tribesmen found themselves without their weapons, which burst into flame or shattered.  Spyke backflipped, sliding an extra long and sharp, flaming blade from his right wrist, slashing at the net holding down Scaleface and freeing her, then circle kicked the nearest tribesman out of the way.

"Callisto!" cried out Lucid, jumping behind one of the Hungan's minions and knocking him out, drawing Spyke's attention to their leader, who was being hauled away into the thickening mist by the heavyset tribesmen who'd first knocked Spyke down.  Growling, he sprang at them, but was cut off by a spear flying in his path, as Callisto and her abductor vanished into the mist.

"CALLISTO!" he cried out, angrily, fearfully.

Spyke growled fiercely, as the other tribesmen slowly started to vanish into the mist, and launched his spikes (not flaming) at one, who stumbled, and Spyke quickly pinned to the floor.  With a speed that would've done his former rival proud, he leapt on top of the tribesman and place a red-hot tipped spike at his throat.

"Where have they taken her?" he asked angrily.  The tribesman, though fearful, did not respond.  "ANSWER ME!" he roared, thrusting the spike's point just a little closer for emphasis.  Suddenly a hand was laid on Spyke's wrist, and he glanced angrily at whoever had dared to stop him.  But his eyes opened wide in shock as he saw it was none other than Torpid, who was watching him almost fearfully, shaking her head.  Evan, coming back to his senses, and realized how he must've seen, relaxed... marginally.  Callisto was still in danger.

"You came here for her, didn't you?" he asked the tattooed tribesman.  "You only wanted her, that's why you wanted to disable the rest of us.  Why?  Why's she so important?"

The dark-skinned tribesman did not reply, and Spyke was beginning to wonder if they were even capable of talk.

Growling, Evan retracted his red-hot spike and just decked the guy, as hard as he could, right in the face, knocking him unconscious and leaving him pinned to the floor.  He then turned his attention to the wounded.  Scaleface had reverted to her human form, and her wounds had healed marginally, so she was in no immediate danger.  Calliban and Lucid, however, had both been pierced by the tribesmen's darts, though both seemed otherwise alright.  Experience from Logan's lessons had shown him how to recognize a fatal poison over a non-fatal one, and thus he could tell neither was in any serious danger.  Calliban was already starting to stir.

"What... what happened?" he asked, the cold, monotone voice of his still managing to convey enough of his confusion and fear.

"They took Callisto," stated Evan, quietly, as he knelt by Torpid and raised her head, trying to gently waken her.

"Impossible..." Calliban started to say.  But the expressions of the other Morlocks confirmed it.

Their leader had been kidnapped.

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**Author's Notes:**

That's right, the Hungan's back, with yet another nefarious scheme.  Prepare to be shocked!


	3. III

"Calliban, locate Callisto..." commanded Evan, after being assured all the other Morlocks were healed or taken care of.

Calliban complied, placing his hands to his temples in a gesture all to familiar to Evan, having spent a good deal of his freshmen and sophmore year around telepaths.  "She is no longer in Bayville," stated Calliban, as his pale, hairless brow furrowed, and his concentration deepened.  He was expanding the range of his power, which could find any mutant in the entire world.  Suddenly his eyes popped open, in the closest expression Evan had ever seen to surprise.

"She is in Africa," he stated in dull monotone.

"Africa?" asked Evan in astonishment.  "How the heck did she get to Africa so damn fast?  These guys have better teleportation that Nightcrawler," he grumbled, gesturing vaguely at the fallen tribesmen and his impromptu guard of Scaleface.

"I do not know how... but Callisto is in Africa."

"Where in Africa?" asked Spyke angrily, already forming a plan in his mind.

"Near Kenya... no other mutants are near her," stated Calliban.

"Fine... Scaleface," he said, a bit louder, gaining the attention of the dark-haired shapeshifter.  "I'm leaving you in charge... I'll be back in a month or so," he said, and without another word grabbed his backpack (previously unused), stuffed in some foodsupplies, hoisted it over his shoulder and stalked out of the Alley, without so much as glancing behind him.  However, he hadn't even gotten a mile from the Alley before he heard the steady splash-splash-splash of footsteps, and he glanced back.  Sure enough, Torpid, Lucid, Facade, Calliban and Cybelle were there, following him.

"What're you guys doing?  I'll do this alone... I'll bring her back."

"You will need help," replied Calliban, holding Callisto's dropped weapon nervously.  "She is our friend too, Spyke," added Lucid.

Spyke was about to angrily reply that Callisto was more than a mere friend to him, or even a leader.  But his voice choked on the words, and he could not bring himslf to say them in frnot of the others.  Despite all his power, his skill, his courage, he was still a teenaged boy, and admitting his feelings for Callisto would be infintely more difficult than rescuing her.

Reluctantly, he sighed and said "Alright, you can come along... but if you're coming with me, you obey me.  Africa is my homeland, I know how it works," he stated quietly.  It was something of a stretch, but they needed a strong leader right now, and he had to assume the position.

He only hoped he would be half as good as Callisto would be in his place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the alleyway, the manhole slid open, and Spyke hauled himself out with the grace of an acrobat, reaching down to give a hand to the far less agile Torpid, helping her to her feet as the other Morlocks filed out, one by one, nervously watching the surrounding landscape.  None were truly comfortable on the surface, but at least it was night, where their visible mutations were only visible if they walked out into the light.  Which they would not do.

Spyke led them, walking confidently, as the others sticked to the shadows (or in the case of Torpid, the shadow of her protector) as they made their way to the docks.  From experience, Spyke knew that Bayville connected to the Atlantic ocean from the bay on which it was named.  All they needed to do was 'procure' a ship.  Much as Evan would've preferred to head the opposite direction, to the Institute, he knew he couldn't.  If he did, it would involve Storm, and she had already had enough troubles dealing with the Hungan.  He would handle this, he though grimly.  And if that psychotic witch-doctor had so much as laid a hand on Callisto's head.

Spikes jutted angrily from his arms, spurred by his thoughts of vengeance.  Angrily, breathing slowly to calm himself, he drew them back in before he startled anyone.

Thankfully the docks were abandoned this time of year, most people busy with schooling or real work, and at this time of night the docks were closed, the gates shut and locked, designed to keep out intruders.  Spyke, silently, beckoned Cybelle forward.  The dark-skinned mutant slid off her glove, placing her hand against the chain-link fence in a wide circle, watching the metal fall to the ground, seared around the edges.  One by one, the Morlocks slipped inside.  Spyke paused at the security camera, readying a spike, then paused, looking directly up and into it, giving it a good look at his face.

"I'm just borrowing it.  I promise I'll bring it back," he said, then launched the spike an destroyed the camera before it could see any of the other Morlocks.  They wasted no time in finding a boat.  Most of them were small fishing boats, some speeders, but mostly pleasure things, nothing that would last in the rough and tumble waves so frequent in the Atlantic ocean.

"This one!" called out Lucid, beckoning the others over as he pointed at the craft in question.  Spyke nodded in approval.  It was big enough to survive the ocean, and sturdy enough, yet small enough to remain unnoticed until out in international waters.  "Even better, its owner left its keys in the ignition," added Lucid with a smile.

"How can you tell?" asked Spyke, then immediately remembered who he was talking to and smacked his forehead.  He must've seen it for himself.  "Right, of course... all right, everyone on board.  Cybelle, break the lines.  Calliban, you're with me," he barked out orders, as he and his pale-skinned companion made their way to the steering wheel and started up the engine.

Cybelle wasted no time in burning through the ropes holding down the ship.  As she and the remaining Morlocks climbed aboard the ship's name came into view.  Ironically, named the S.S. Eloi.  Had Callisto been here she likely would've laughed.

But she wasn't.

And they needed to save her.

Spyke gunned the motor, manuvering the ship out just as easily as he'd been trained to do with the Blackbird, though he confessed it was easier to manuver a plane at low altitude than a ship on the surface of water.  Too many variables in the shifting water, and more than once he nearly dinged the ship clean against the docks before managing to regain control.  Finally, the ship managed to clear the rocky walls that marked the docks and headed down the peninsula to the open sea, and from there to the coast of Africa.  The ship had sufficient supplies (added to that of the Morlocks) as well as enough gas, and a few sleeping bunks below, presumably for the fishing crew on long journies.

It was a ragtag ship, with an even more ragtag crew, but it would do.

Spyke hoped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Groaning, Callisto shifted, sitting upright, clutching her head, which seemed on the verge of splitting open.

"Ah good, you've awoken," came a low, sinister voice to her left.  Without even bothering to look Callisto reacted purely by instinct, launching herself towards the strange voice, but to her surprise she was yanked back by the force, her arms shackled by iron chains, driven deep into the ground.  Thus, she could not even reach her opponent, though now she could get a better look at him.

A tall, dark-skinned man dressed in african traditional garb, down to the many golden bands along his neck, forearms and ankles. The tattoo of a jawless white skull was imprinted onto his face, and from out of its sockets his own eyes glared at her menacingly, 'causing Callisto to shrink back an inch or so. Clasped in the strange man's hands was a bone scepter, tipped with a multifaceted crystal.

"Most unwise to try and defy me," stated the strange man again, grinning at Callisto.

"What the hell do you want?" growled Callisto back at him, though she shivered fearfully. "Who are you? What is this place?"

The man gestured with his free hand, and torchlight lit the room they were in. It was big, dark, and very, very old. Callisto could tell that immediately. It had the look and feel of an ancient temple, though she did not recognize the culture, the walls lined with columns of wood, that crisscrossed along the ceiling. No carvings on the walls, no hieroglyphics, no animal statues. Only a great circled carved in the floor, where Callisto currently kneeled (unable to fully stand because of the chains).  In the torchlight, Callisto could now see the two of them were not alone. At least a dozen tribesmen, dressed as their leader and armed with a variety of spears, machetes, and blowguns, lined the edges of the room, keeping into the flickering shadows.

"I am the Hungan," stated her captive, bringing her attention back to him. "And it is not the place of slaves to question their masters," he added, lifting up his scepter and pointing it right at Callisto, who shrank back fearfully, though she could not say why.  A string of nonsensical words followed, as he chanted a magic spell, and the scepters crystal glowed softly.

Suddenly all sensation fled her body, as her one good eye rolled back into her head and she felt some-thing- flow from her mouth. One final thought flitted through her mind before her body collapsed.

_Evan..._

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**Author's Notes:**

And the Morlocks are off to the rescue. Against both the Hungan and his dark sorcery soul-stealing.  Isn't he mean?  Speaking of Morlocks, did anyone catch the irony of the ship's name? I doubt any sailor worth his parrot would name their ship that, but it seemed like a cute joke to insert into all the suspense.

Faith Darkholme: I like all the characters on that show (except Havoc) but I seriously haven't seen the Morlocks or Spyke get much screentime, especially key members of the Morlocks like Callisto and Calliban, we know next to nothing about.  And people complain about the Brotherhood not being seen much.

WYLK: Oh you shall see soon enough.  Oh and FYI?  The Hungan refers to their leader with the freaky staff.  At least that's how Nirambo referred to them.  I dunno what he calls his group of mute tribesmen.


	4. IV

The Eloi made good time, traversing the dark waters between America and Africa, and thankfully the Morlocks had yet to encounter any serious storms or other troubles, save Lucid's sea-sickness. They took turns, alternating who drove, who slept, and who stood by.

Evan was now standing by, sitting at the back of the boat, his knees drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He felt the cold winds, but that was not chilled him to the bone. Thoughts of the Hungan did that. What he would do to Callisto frightened him more. He well remembered what had happened to Storm, her soul stolen, her body and her powers used to attack her own family and friends. Evan would not let that happen to Callisto.

Torpid made her way over to Evan, plopping down in front of him, tilting her head in a manner most Morlocks recognized. An inquiry.

"I'm fine, Torpid," he replied bitterly, not meeting her inquisitve gaze. She frowned, shook her head once, and tilted it again. Evan, finally, sighed and gave in. "Alright fine, I'm worried, alright...? I'm scared for Callisto." Torpid nodded, her expression solemn, and Evan was reminded that she too had greatly admired their leader, almost like a surrogate mother.  "I care for her a lot," he added, more to himself than the mute little girl.  Torpid frowned, confused, tapping her chest, then gesturing at the other Morlocks, tilting her head once again in curiousity.  "I know we all care for her, Torpid, but its not the same for me... I have... feelings for Callisto.  I..." he hesitated.  He couldn't say it, not yet.

"We'll get her back," he said with something close to a smile on his face, as he reached out and ruffled Torpid's hair, who smiled back innocently. "We'll get her back and head home and continue as we always have. As a family."

Torpid smiled again, nodding her head enthusastically, reminding Evan in some ways of the younger recruits back at the Institute, so innocent, so eager to be happy. He envied them for that, right now. Sighing, he returned to his brooding, as Torpid got up and made her way forward to assist Facade with the piloting. Thus, the cycle continued, where they would sleep, eat, guide the ship, and continue. Just a few more days, and they would reach the African shores. From there it would likely be a simple matter to head inland, and with Calliban's tracking, locate Callisto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thankfully the next few days proved uneventful, as the Morlocks docked in and discreetly made their way inland, avoiding the locals. Facade had managed to procure some heavy robes, able to conceal the features of the Morlocks, and to the eyes of the local inhabitants they appeared as no more than simple pilgrims. Thus, they were left undisturbed as they headed in-land, marching on foot.

Spyke led them. He knew the way, though it was harder to judge on foot than it was from the magnificent view overhead in a Blackbird, something he really wished he and the others had right now. Still, when last they'd been here, the whole team, Evan remembered the way, and he knew where they were going. Calliban confirmed it, as they exited the cities and roads and travelled into the untamed African wilderness.  For once, Spyke was glad he'd taken the wilderness survival course back at Ironback.  A city kid like the old Evan Daniels wouldn't have last as long as Spyke now did.

No beast dared attack their campfires, ringed as they were by Spyke's flaming spikes. Not even the hunting lions were hungry enough to try for prey so very dangerous, and they were left alone, though Torpid often clung to Spyke during the night, her big blue eyes staring out at the darkness of the woods beyond the fire, fearful of what lay out there.

A few more days of travel, and Spyke began to grow impatient. Already they'd given the Hungan more than enough time to carry out whatever plan he had for Callisto, and he longed to press on, but the other Morlocks were unused to the forced marching, despite their conviction. Their bodies would quit before their minds, and they were sorely slowing Spyke down, or so he thought at the time. But even he had to agree that if it came to a pitched fight between the Morlocks and the Hungan's minions, their added strength would be welcome. And as they journey, Spyke relaxed marginally.  And they never complained.  They were used to far worse things in life.

He'd forgotten how beautiful Africa was.

Rugged beauty as far as the eye could see, out here. No manmade sewers, just beautiful savannahs, jungles and desert, untouched by civilization. Out here the animals did not judge the Morlocks any more or less than they judged humans. True, it was hostile and dangerous, but one had to appreciate the natural beauty as well.

Finally, Spyke located their destination, though Calliban was confused by this. By his reckoning (and his power never misled him) Callisto was several miles south of this area. This area was, near as he could tell, deserted. But Spyke drew his attention to another feature that proved otherwise. Great hunks of wood, painstakingly carved into the likeness of people, and gods.

"I recognize this one," stated Calliban, pointing up to one such wooden statue, of a woman with her arms raised high. "This is..."

"My aunt, Storm. I know, Calliban," stated Spyke quietly. His attention was focused on a toppled wooden pillar, bearing the likeness of a serpent coiled around a pillar of stone.  The Hungan's pillar. Growling, a spike popped out of his wrist, tip flaming, as he prepared to destroy it.

"No, you must not do that, Evan..." came a soft, yet insistent voice. Spyke growled, turning to face whoever had dared to interrupt him, yet stopped, when he saw who it was.

Nirambo.

The elder tribesman, who'd come to try and save Storm from the Hungan, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Who'd helped to guide the X-Men to find Storm aboard the Nirouca. And now back in his native land, guiding the tribe that still followed Ororo as a Goddess.

"I... I'm sorry, Nirambo," he said, cooling his spike and retracting it back into his arm, looking for all the world like a kid caught doing something wrong. Nirambo smiled reassuringly.

"Come, nephew of the Windrider... I believe we have much to discuss."

"Yeah, we do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

Can't have the Hungan without Nirambo showing up, can we now? This chapter was a bit rushed, I confess, but it was mostly to set up the proper environment for what comes next.

Kukume: I hadn't really intended this as an Evan-centric fic, but Morlock-centric.  However, it probably seems that way because most of the story is told from his point of view.

Todd Fan: Glad you enjoy it.  But believe me, before Uprising I would've never liked Spyke much either.  He fits in well with the Morlocks though.

Banter: Oh more is on its way.  Glad you like it though, and I agree, sorely underused are the Morlocks.  Everyone else on ff.net wants to write about Gambit and Rogue getting together.  Badly, I might add.  But I digress... back to the story.


	5. V

Night had fallen, as Spyke and the other Morlocks joined Nirambo in his hut, seating themselves in a semi-circle around the fire contained therein.  Spyke had already warned them not to touch anything they found, since the shaman's ingredients were often-times delicate and sometimes even perilous.

"You know why we're here?" asked Spyke, forgoing formailities.

"You've come because of the Hungan," he replied, nodding his aged head.

"He's kidnapped one of our own," replied Spyke, indicating the other Morlocks.  "Our leader, Callisto."

"I cannot tell you the Hungan's plans, I know very little," confessed the aged shaman, leaning back on his haunches, his legs crossed beneath him.  "I know he has returned, and that his ambitions to rule Africa have not changed."

"But Storm defeated him... he was flung into the ocean," started Spyke.

"Ororo is very powerful," replied Nirambo.  "But the Hungan is too, in his own way.  He and his minions have returned.  They have already started attacking us as well.  Already three of our number have been kidnapped, turned into his soulless minions.  We sought to deal with this on our own, as it is a problem that no longer concerns Ororo, but now that you are here," he stated, his gaze sweeping over the other Morlocks as well.  "Your aid would be much appreciated."

"We'll do whatever we can," promised Spyke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Morlocks stayed the night with Nirambo's tribe.  True, they were regarded oddly, but not with the usual hate-filled glares they experienced whenever they travelled topside.  Here, they were an oddity, but nothing more.  Spyke smiled to himself, as he and Facade helped to lift a fallen beam, as they were bsuy helping to repair some of the damage from the Hungan's previous attack.

It was good, the physical labor.  It kept Spyke's mind off of other things.  Like ivory-white skin and a single, piercingly bright eye.  Or dark, shaggy hair, that somehow remained smooth and straight despite the life of a sewer-dweller.  And then there were other thoughts he wanted to avoid.  Like the white, evil image of a skull tattoo.  Or the cold glowing crystal of the Hungan's scepter.

Spyke was so distracted by his thoughts he barely noticed the roof of the nearby hut starting to fall forward, until one of the tribseman called out, snapping the spiky warrior back to the here and now.

Quickly he threw out some longs spikes, holding up the ceiling, as two tribesmen and Calliban moved in with supports to keep the roof upright.  Spyke, surprised, tired, confused, moved to a nearby fallen log and sat down, rubbing his temples.

"You are pushing yourself too hard, warrior," stated Nirambo, coming up behind Spyke, who didn't bother to turn around.  "You blame yourself needlessly."

"It was my fault," he retorted angrily, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears.  "My fault she was taken."

"Yet you are here, to save her... and you have the power to do it, Windrider's nephew.  I have seen the strength carried by your family."

Spyke stood angrily, turning to face Nirambo, every line in his body tense.  Angry.  The fire that sometimes burned along his skeleton now burned in his eyes, and Nirambo shrank back fearfully.  "Where is the Hungan, Nirambo?  I'm leaving tonight."

"Five miles south.  When you cross the river, turn to follow the moon.  They are at the Temple."

Spyke wasted no more time, breaking off in a dead run, using his spikes to slash his way through the thick foliage as he ran to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Torpid tugged at Calliban's pant leg, pointing.  Calliban frowned, tilting his head, his eyes narrowing in concentration.  There, Spyke.  Moving south, away from the village, towards Callisto.  No other Morlocks with him, they were all found too, still at the village.  He'd gone on alone.

"Gather the others," he stated in dull monotone, though his voice carried underneath it an urgency rarely heard.  "We have to move quickly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

I presume that the Hungan's warriors aren't working for him entirely out of loyalty.  I think maybe their souls have been stolen too, so I inserted the how the Hungan stole some villages from Nirambo's tribe.  And now Spyke is running off alone to fight them all.

Elisabeth Braddock-Grey: Nobody loves the Hungan, he's fundamentally unlikable.  Glad you like my Callisto/Evan romance though, I am working hard on it.  And of course Torpid.  She's my third favorite Morlock, and only that far down because she can't speak.

Kukume: Hey, he can survive in a mansion full of mutants and down in the sewers, plus he took that Ironback survival course.  Damn straight he's got survival skills.  If you want more details on the Morlocks, Beyond Evolution has their profiles (courtesy of yours truly).  Check it out.

Todd fan: I could've sworn it was Nirambo, but maybe I misheard.  After all, his name was only said once in the entire series.

Banter: Glad you like.  I do try and do that, work my stories into the timeline of the Evo series, glad my work does not go unnoticed.

Impulsive Thoughts: Thanks for the input.


	6. VI

Spyke found and crossed the river with relative ease, vaulting over it with a makeshifte spike javelin, which he tossed aside.  The other Morlocks, if they followed, would not be able to get across as quickly, with the quick currents.

Good.  He didn't want them to see what he was going to do to the Hungan.

Spikes angrily sprang from his arms, red-hot tipped, as his thoughts filled with  vengeance.  Not just for Callisto, but for all the Morlocks he'd nearly killed, and even for his Auntie O, who'd nearly become his mindless slave.  For all of them, the Hungan was going to pay.

Finally, he found the temple.

More of a cave, really, it'd been carved into the hill, the entranced marked by the wooden pillars, covered by the fanged serpents that were the symbol of the Hungan.  No guards, and likely none needed.  No one would be foolish enough to try and take out the Hungan on his own ground.  Growling, Spyke stepped inside, firing a short spike out of his wrist and catching it, setting the tip alight as a makeshift torch, to allow him to see in the dark as he made his way down the tunnel to the main temple.

Suddenly the ground gave out, and Spyke cried out as the floor his feet rested on gave out, and he fell.  Thinking quickly he thrust out his arms, thick, sharp spikes shooting out and slowing his descent, stopping him inches above the bottom of the pit, lined as it was by deadly serpents.

"Whoa... okay... definently need to thank Logan next chance I get," he stated without much humor.

Jutting out some spikes from his feet and using all four limbs to haul himself out of the pit.  Another makeshift torch and he was off, more cautiously this time, his eyes alert for signs of danger.  A few simple, crude traps had been set up for any visiting the Hungan, but it seemed that the worst of it lay ahead of him, in the temple itself.  Spyke passed around the last of the pit traps, and then passed under a low archway to the heart of the temple.

Torchlight lit the room they were in.  Big, dark and old, about the size of the Danger Room.  It had the look and feel of an ancient temple, though no symbols or religious relics lay anywhere.  Only a great circled carved in the floor, and a dozen or so burning braziers along the walls.  And there, in the center of the circle, stood the Hungan.

"You have finally come, God," he stated quietly, though despite his choice of name for Spyke, his tone was condescending more than anything else.

Spyke growled, and spikes burst from his body, ready to use them.  But not before he got some answers.  "Why did you kidnap Callisto?!" he demanded angrily.

"The woman is not vital to my plans," replied the Hungan haughtily, holding up the glowing scepter that glowed with an eerie light.  Spyke growled upon seeing it, remember all too well how it had glowed when it held Auntie O's spirit.  A number of short, jagged spikes appeared along his right forearm, tips flaming, as he prepared to unleash them upon the Hungan's tool and shatter it once again.  "But she has served her purpose.  Bait, to lure the foolish prey..." he stated, the white skull tattoo glowing eerily in the light from the braziers.

"That's stupid!  Storm has no interest in Callisto, it's..." and then he stopped, as he realized the full horror of the situation.  "You don't want her, do you?  You wanted me, all along."

"You have grown even more powerful than the Windrider," stated the Hungan, with an admiring wave, pointing at Spyke's flaming spikes.  "With you under my control, I shall be able to rule Africa, as is my right."

"I will never serve you!" roared Spyke angrily, his eyes blazing with inner fire, as his voice echoed off the walls of the temple.  The Hungan did not even flinch.  Instead he smirked, and made a gesture behind him, in the darkness between the braziers.  A shadowy figure rose up, though Spyke couldn't yet get a clear look at the features from the dim lighting.  Plus, he didn't want to take his eye off of the Hungan.

"Oh, but you will," stated the Hungan, as he stepped back, out of the circle.  "But like the Windrider, you too possess too much power to be controlled as you are now.  First, your spirit must be broken," he added, as he gestured, and the figure entered the light.

Spyke gasped.

It was Callisto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

I admit I don't understand the full extent of the Hungan's soul-stealing powers, but I do recall he took a lot of time with Storm to wear her resistance down.  Thus, I presume he has to do the same with Spyke.  Poor Evan, forced to fight his loved one.  Is there a more cruel fate I can inflict upon the characters I my stories?  Probably, but this'll do for now.


	7. VII

Callisto had changed immeasurably in the past few weeks.  Gone were her street trousers, boots and tank top, replaced by the same clothing as the tribesmen, animal fur loincloth, halter and golden jewelry around her neck, ankles and wrists.  Only the patch remained, covering her damaged eye.  On her it exposed a great deal of her milky-white skin, but Spyke paid no attention to that right now.  Her gaze had changed too, and gone was any sense of mercy or compassion.  Her one good eye seemed blank, empty... lifeless.

But worst, was the white war paint, the jawless skull of the Hungan, painted across her pretty features, which were twisted in an expression of pure malice.  Spyke didn't know if he should be frightened or enraged.

Callisto settled the matter for him as she launched herself at him, wordlessly, lashing out with a tribal spear, as Spyke flung up his arm and narrowly managed to parry, thrusting out his flaming spikes just enough to damage the weapon, and not its wielder.  Callisto backflipped away from Spyke, reaching to the belt of her loincloth and pulling out a wickedly sharp, iron machete.  Metal that Spyke's powers couldn't pierce, and a weapon he couldn't destroy.

"Callisto!  Callisto listen to me!" he shouted, as he ducked, dodge, and parried her weapon, making no effort to fight back himself.  He couldn't bring himself to attack her.

"She cannot hear you!  She listens only to me!" said the Hungan, with a grin of triumph on his features.  "You have but two options.  Her death or yours!"

Spyke growled, about to take aim and shatter the Hungan's scepter, but as his attention shifted, Callisto took full advantage of this to slice into his shoulder, through the bone plating and nearly clean through to his shoulderblade, though thankfully he managed to avoid any serious injury as he leapt back from her, keeping his distance now.  It seemed that being soulless had not diminished her combat skills, or her experience.  All it had changed was who she was aiming them at, and Spyke now fell under that unfortunate category.

Spyke flung out his hand and shot a two-sided spear of his own, leaving both tips unlit as was his custom, to parry Callistos attacks.  She was relentless, unmerciful, her entire body flowing with the attacks in a way that Spyke had once admired, but now watched fearfully, doing his best to avoid being hurt without hurting Callisto.  He had to find some way of reaching her, convincing her to stop, or else he was a gonner.

"Callisto listen to me!  You're being controlled by the Hungan!  I've come to help you!" he shouted, dodging and parrying.  However, each time the sharp iron blade cut a bit closer, as it began to slice into the thick bone of his makeshift spear.  Each time it vibrated, and it was rapidly starting to fall apart.

"Callisto!  All of us came here to rescue you!  Me, Calliban, Torpid!  We're all here for you!" he continued to shout, as Callisto changed tactics and dropped down low, swinging out her foot and knocking Spyke clean off his feet to slam hard onto his back.  Callisto quickly regained her feet, kicking aside his weapon and placing her machete at his throat.

"Finish her," stated the Hungan.  "Or she finishes you."

"Never!" shouted Evan, as he (reluctantly) kicked Callisto in the stomach, knocking her back.  She lunged at him but he rolled backwards and onto his feet, seconds before her machete struck the ground where he'd been laying seconds before.  "Callisto listen to me!  This isn't you!" he shouted, dodging to one side as Callisto's machete nearly 'nicked his side, as he found himself backed up against the stone wall of the temple.  "Callisto, listen to me... this isn't you!"

Callisto growled and hurled her machete at Spyke, who ducked low as it imbedded itself into the wall above his head.

He was about to stand and, now that she was unarmed, pin her down, but Callisto was faster, and flung herself at Spyke.  She grabbed him around the neck, where his spiked plating didn't protect him, and started to squeeze, throwing him up against the wall as she slowly but surely crushed the life out of him.  Already he could feel his vision starting to dim as he feebly struggled against Callisto, unable to throw her off.  A simple twist, turn, and spike could remove her, but Spyke couldn't bring himself to do that.

"C-callisto.." he choked out, already short of breath.  "Don't... don't do this... do you really... really want to kill me?"

Callisto's left eye glinted briefly for a moment.

He felt the hands around his neck loosen, and after the extra hard martial arts lessons Logan had given back at the Institute, that was all he needed.  Quickly Spyke dropped down to his knees and launched himself forward, grabbing Callisto's midsection and kncoking her flat on her back.  Quickly he flipped up and over her, then turned around, launching a dozen unlit spikes with expert precision, pinning Callisto to the ground.  Growling, she struggled, but she was effectively pinned, unable to move.  For now.  She was a lot stronger than most of those Spyke had pinned in the past, and she'd be free in a few moments, and the attack would resume.

The Hungan's evil laughter interrupted them.  "You fool of a God," he stated dangerously.  "Where are your powers now?  You cannot even defeat a single unarmed woman."

"I won't kill Callisto!" shouted back Spyke, as he growled, shooting off a flurry of flaming spikes straight at Hungan.  However, the sorcerer was prepared this time as he dodged aside, protecting the scepter's vulnerable crystal head.  That was all the time Callisto needed to wrench herself free of the spikes pinning her down, as she leapt to her feet with the grace of an acrobat.  "Callisto listen to me!  Its me, Evan!  I came here to rescue you from the Hungan!  Please, listen to me!  The Morlocks, we all care about you!"

Spyke was rewarded for his efforts by a flurry of blows that he wasn't quick enough to fend off, as Callisto's fists slammed into his stomach and then across his jaw, knocking him to the ground, out of breath and helpless.  With grim, deadly slowness, the former Morlock leader reached over to the wall and grabbed her steel machete, yanking it free and walking over towards Spyke, who lay helpless on the ground.

"Now you die," stated the Hungan, watching from the side with a grin plastered on his tattooed face.  "If you will not be my warrior... perhaps she will..."

"No..." hissed Spyke through his clenched teeth, as he struggled to regain his feet.  Callisto had shattered one of his lower ribs.  It would heal quickly, but not quickly enough to be of any aid.  He could not fight any longer, and thus he had only a few short moments to devise a plan to save himself, and Callisto.  The one-eyed warrior stepped forward, blade raised.  And then it came to him, how he could stop her.  What had caused her to loosen her hold earlier.

Evan Daniel's arms hung limply at his sides, as he closed his eyes, praying to any divine being who cared to listen, then spoke the words he'd been too scared to before.

"-I- care about you, Callisto."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

Spyke vs. Callisto.  One of my best fight scenes to date, and I think it turned out better because of the fewer characters involved.  More space for me to write about their individual moves and motives.

Todd fan: *places leech behind you, then hands you back Spyke to huggle*

King of the Worthless: I dunno, but I assume the Hungan is all he's known by, so I'm leaving it at that.  Plus, giving him a name diminishes his evil aura effect.  "I, Bob, will rule over Africa!"  See?

Kukume: Oh yes, lesser degree, some sort of polytheism.  As you'll see in the next chapter, the tribesmen can be very superstitious, and this can be used to the heroes advantage.  Spyke never really wanted company on this trip, that's why he left the Morlocks behind.  Plus, he feels responsible for what happened.  All in all, I think its justified.

Elrohirthewriter: Plenty to come, fret you not.

Beck2: Thanks, glad you like.

Snoweyes: Oh good, I was worried I'd get complaints left and right.  I'm glad some people share my opinion on those two.


	8. VIII

A second passed, then another.  Evan reluctantly opened one eye, to see Callisto frozen in mid swing, her blade inches from his temple.  Her one good eye was open wide, and more importantly, Evan could see the life contained therein.  A portion of her spirit remained, and it was fighting against the Hungan's control.

"I'm sorry Callisto," he added, as he took careful aim at the unmoving woman and shot off a specially made spike, curved in on itself, that pinned itself around Callisto's wrist like a cuff and slapped hard into the wall on both sides of her wrist, pinning her there.  Though her free arm immediately came up to try and free herself, Evan was positive he could see that her bright blue eye shined with welcome relief.  She -was- still in there.

"Enough of this!" shouted the Hungan, raising his hands and the scepter up high.  The flames from the braziers rose high, licking the ceiling as the room was suddenly filled with the dark tribesmen, who encircled Spyke.  Wounded and weary as he was (his calcium meter was practically on empty) he had no hope of defeating them all.  "Take the God, and kill the woman!" he ordered, as his tribesmen surged forward with their weapons and Callisto feel limply against the wall, no longer struggling.  The bone shackle was almost loose, but she would make no further effort to defend herself.  The Hungan laughed evilly, his voice echoing off the walls of the temple.

"No!" shouted Spyke, struggling as three of the tribesmen overpowered him, pinning his arms.  He had enough energy for maybe six or so more spikes, maybe less if they were flaming.  After that he would be completely out of energy.

Spyke duly prepared himself for a fight he could not win...

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement as one of the braziers was tipped over, and that section of the temple became enshrouded in darkness.  A flurry of shapes moved in and out of the darkness, difficult to see, and the Hungan and his minions watched them fearfully.

"What is happening?!"

"Your game is over..." came the slurred, dull monotone that Spyke recognized so well.  Stepping into the flickering lights came the pale, hairless visage of Calliban, his expression dark, almost angry (or at least as angry as the pale Morlock ever got).  Then Cybelle appeared behind him, giving a fearsome smirk, as she slid off her gloves.  And Lucid to his other side, holding the steel staff of Callisto in his hands, his yellow eyes glowing in the fire eerily.  The other tribesmen fell back fearfully from the strange warriors assembled.  After all, Spyke and Storm were Gods among them, they had no idea of what the pale man, burnt woman, and frog fellow in front of them were capable.

"It is over," stated Calliban again, as he and the other Morlocks took up fighting stances.  The tribesmen shifted fearfully.

"Gods of the Underworld," one of them murmured, his hands trembling.

"Attack!" roared the Hungan, and his minions reluctantly surged forward, two staying behind to hold Spyke.  The spirit-controlled Callisto suddenly sprang back to life, renewing her efforts to free herself and rejoin the fight at her masters command.

"Destroy them all!" roared the Hungan, positively drunk with power and the thought of victory.  Thus, he did not notice as the ceiling above him shimmered, as Facade materialized upside down, clinging to the ceiling with the ease of a spider.  He leaned himself upside down and reached down, snatching the scepter from the Hungan's astonished grasp, as he slid back up to the ceiling and vanished from view again.  The Hungan, once he realized what had happened, could see no sign of Facade.

"Facade!" shouted Spyke, as he dropped down and elbow the tribesmen holding his left arm, and flipped him over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground.  Quickly he turned and decked the other guy, knocking him aside.  "Throw me the scepter!"

"NO!" roared the Hungan, lunging forward.  But he was too late.

Facade materialized and tossed the scepter to Spyke, who grabbed it in his left hand.  As a nearby tribesman lunged at him, trying to stop him from shattering the crystal, he actually proved most helpful as Spyke dodged his attack, twirling around and smashing the crystal full on the back of the man's head, shattering it and knocking his assailant unconscious, who was flung to the ground.  As the crystal shattered its unholy glow dissipated, and once more Spyke witnessed the white, wispy soul flow free and flow back into its true owner, Callisto of the Morlocks.

Callisto shook her head angrily, her blue eye flashing with anger... and life.  Her lips curled back into the smirk the Morlocks recognized all too well.  She was truly herself again.

"Lucid!" shouted Callisto, holding out her free hand.  Lucid smacked a tribesman neatly on the head then tossed Callisto her weapon, the iron staff arching through the air as it landed in its true owners hand, and she slid the thin tip through the bone spike holding her wrist, snapping it free in one deft, fluid motion.  She twirled the staff over her head, snapping it behind her back, one hand held forward, and with it she beckoned the tribesmen forward.  "Come and get me."

Spyke grinned, swiping his hands to either side of him and allowing three razor sharp bones to sprout from either fist, right between his knuckles, as he flipped up and over, landing back to back with Callisto as the tribesmen started to surround them.

"Party time," he said, as the area erupted into chaos.

Lucid and Calliban, whose mutations did not run into the physical department, on the whole kept clear of the battle, jumping in only when an opening presented itself.  Facade continued to use the flicking firelight to move in and out of the fight as he neatly knocked out opponent after opponent on the back of their heads, rending them unconscious one by one.  Many of the tribesmen, fearful of the strange looks of the Morlocks, were too afraid to bring themselves close.  Those that would were distracted, and easy prey for Torpid, who froze them and left them to fall on the ground, or Cybelle, who touched their weapons and melted them into goo at their feet.  Spyke growled, and the tips of his spikes claws burst into flame, as he shot them this way and that.  The battle ended quickly, as the Morlocks overpowered their foes, who were already frightened beyond belief by what they believed was a battle against the divine.  Soon a full scale retreat was in order, leaving only the Hungan trapped as the Morlocks sealed off the entrance.  Flames from Spyke's spikes and from the knocked over braziers had lit the support beams of the temple, and they were starting to collapse, one such beam right in front of the Hungan, cutting off his only exit.

"Africa will be mine someday, Gods!  Your kind will never stop me from attaining the power that is rightfully mine!" shouted the Hungan over the roar of the fire, as another beam fell down and he was lost from Spyke's line of vision.

"Come on!" shouted Callisto, grabbing up Torpid and leading the other Morlocks out of the tunnel, as they all ran.  The structure had been compromised by the burning beams, and even now was starting to shake dangerously.

The Morlocks emerged into the morning sunlight, panting for breath and patting one another on the backs, coughing from the smoke they'd inhaled, as the temple complex collapsed, flames already spreading along the dry grass towards the woodlands.  Spyke grimaced, realizing at least part of this was his fault, but right now he wasn't too concerned.  His people came first, especially Callisto.

Luckily the jungle seemed all to happy to assist, as a storm cloud rolled in and a gentle downpour, dousing the African fires and washing off the battle stains from the Morlocks, the sweat and soot.  Spyke made his way to Callisto to make sure she was okay, helping support her since one of her legs seemed to be causing her pain.  A joyous cry came from overhead, and Spyke looked up in time to see a certain white-haired "Goddess" descending down to meet them.  Seems it hadn't been the jungle after all.

"Evan!" she said, as she floated down onto her feet, with a worried look about her.  It relaxed marginally when she saw them all, for the most part unharmed.  The worst was Calliban, but it was only a minor cut above his eyebrow, nothing serious.  "Are you alright?" she asked.

Spyke smiled, glancing at Callisto, who smiled back, and nodded.  "Yeah, Auntie O... we're just fine now."

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

The Hungan is defeated, but there's more to the story than that.  And good ol' Storm showing up there.  Don't worry I have a good reason, explained next chapter.

Todd fan: If you ever need help with your fight scenes just let me know, they're my specialty.

Comet-hime: Thanks for offering to do fan art, I really suck at it myself.  And I've seen your work, its good stuff.  Your happy ending is coming up soon enough.

Elrohirthewriter: Must've been the Hungan's power.  Or maybe I'm just darn good, I dunno which.

Juice: Well there ya go, hope you're not disappointed.

Kukume: He's a sixteen year old boy.  Of course he's afraid of commitment!  Yes I realize care is a somewhat weak word, but its not what you say, its how you say it.  I think that's more along the line of Spyke's style, myself.  As for superstitious, well does this chapter answer your question?  And I'm like your friend, actually.


	9. IX

"So you weren't here because of us?"

"Not exactly," replied Storm, seated in Nirambo's hut, where the Morlocks had gathered after returning from the battle.

"I was on my way to visit Nirambo," explained Storm.  "Then I received a call from the Professor, stating how they'd seen you on the video tape, and he'd used Cerebro to trace you here, as well as the other Morlocks.  I came to help."

"We're very grateful," stated Callisto.  She was still wearing the tribal get-up the Hungan had forced on her, her old clothes probably lost in the conflagration.  "If you hadn't shown up that fire could've gotten out of control."

"I am glad I could help," replied Ororo with a smile.  "The Blackbird's all ready to take everyone home.  Berzerker and Wolverine are taking care of the ship you stole, and the Professor says that since it was with the best intentions at heart, he is willing to make its owner 'mysteriously'," she quoted, using her fingers "Forget it was ever gone."

"I don't know what to say," replied Spyke, awed by his aunts generosity.

"A thank you is likely to suffice," commented Nirambo from the side.

"Thanks Auntie O," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  "But we don't have to leave right away, do we?  I mean, you wanted to visit Nirambo... we can stay here too... especially Callisto, she needs to recuperate."

"That's fine Spyke," she said.  "I was planning to stay for only a few days."

"Scaleface can handle the others for that time," replied Callisto with a smile as she stood.  "If you all will excuse me, there is something I must do," she said, as she left the hut.  Spyke started to follow her, but a low rumble stopped him in his tracks, and with a blush he turned back to Nirambo.

"Uh, hey, anywhere I can grab some milk around here?"

"The family just a little ways to your left, they have some goats," replied Nirambo.  "They can help provide you with some milk."

Spyke grumbled, his stomach growling in protest, but he had to have calcium, and soon.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Callisto was at the nearby river, washing away the white war-paint from her face, scrubbing it clean and watching in satisfaction as the hated mark of the Hungan was taken from her features.  Grimacing, she splashes her cheeks again, checking her reflection in the water, and nodded in satisfaction.  Though by no means a neat freak (being a Morlock tended to kill that habit pretty quick) she was rather happy now that she'd been cleaned off a bit.  The clothes she could do without, and frankly she felt a little exposed in the midriff baring tribal gear, but she supposed they would do for now.

A tug at her wraparound skirt alerted her to Torpid, who was tugging at her leg, smiling up at her.

"Hey kid... I'm done here, what did you need?"

Torpid shook her head, pointing instead at Callisto.

"Don't need something... you wanted to give something to me?" she asked curiously.  Torpid nodded.

Taking a short wooden stick, Torpid drew in the soft ground next to the river, as Callisto leaned in to get a better look.  Though unable to speak, Torpid knew how to read and write, though the materials to do so were difficult to obtain in the sewers.  A "C" and then an "E" and finally a great big heart, drawn around the two.  Callisto's eye blinked, once, twice, as it fully impacted upon her.

"Callisto?!" came Spyke's distant call, and Torpid and she both glanced up uneasily as Spyke came blundering through the bush, his thick, sharp spikes snagging on the nearby trees, scarring them as the two women turned to meet him.  Torpid scuffed her foot behind her, brushing away the markings she made in the ground.

"Oh hey, there you are..." he said, smiling.  Callisto smiled as well.  Torpid slinked back into the foliage, sensing the two of them wanted to be alone, so she made her way back to Nirambo's tribe and the other Morlocks.  Callisto and Spyke hardly noticed, they only had eyes for one another.

"Uh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," said Spyke nervously.

"I'm fine Evan," she replied, using his given name for the first time since he'd officially moved in with the Morlocks.  "I just need to rest."

"I know a great place... if you want to, that is..." he started, but she smiled, making her way over to him and wrapping her arm around his.

"Sure, just lead the way," she said amiably, 'causing Spyke to blush further.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evan led Callisto to a place he'd only seen once before, when the Morlocks had first reached the tribe.  It was a low cliff overhang on a small hill, just in the shade of the trees.  From here, Callisto and Evan could see the entire African wilderness as far as the horizon stretched, 'til it met the burning red-golden sun as it set low in the distance.  Evan and Callisto sat down, side by side, in companionable silence, just admiring the beauty.

Finally Evan broke the silence.

"So, uh, do you remember much of what happened to you while you were under the Hungan's control?" he asked, then mentally smacked himself for bringing up such a bad opening subject.

"Not really," she replied, casting her gaze skyward.  "Mostly just vague images and the like... it wasn't all too clear."

"That's... that's good I guess," replied Evan, dropping his own gaze ashamedly.

"But I know who saved me," she added, resting a hand on Evan's shoulder (careful to avoid the spikes) and scooted in closer, smiling at him as he lifted his head.  "And more importantly, I remember how they did it."

Before either could say another word their lips were preoccupied with a much more pleasant activity.  Both were equally astonished, both were thinking it, had -been- thinking it since they'd been reunited at the river, but neither thought they had the guts to do it.  Not that it mattered now.  Eagerly they sought each other out, their lips sealed against one another's.  Three eyes, two brown, one blue, closed as they leaned against one another, pouring out emotions they'd kept in check and to themselves since as long as they'd known each other.  To Evan this was his first kiss, and with the girl he loved, and Callisto felt the same way, as they leaned into one another, unable to get enough.

Finally, slowly, reluctantly, the kiss broke, and they opened their eyes, gazing at one another, their lips still parted as they both took a few moments to catch their breath.\

"Callisto, I've been too scared to say this for a long time, but I love you," he said softly.  "I've loved you since as long as we've known each other, since you saved my life at that skateboarding contest."

"I love you too Evan," she replied, equally soft.  "Since you woke up in our sewers and said you wanted to help save us from a problem that wasn't yours."

Smiling, she leaned in, kissing him again, as Callisto gently leaned into Spyke, as he fell backwards onto the ground, drawing her down atop of him, as they lost themselves in the beautiful love of one another, which cleansed their souls of all the hardships, pain and suffering they'd gone through the past few weeks.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

Yay, Callisto/Evan kiss!  Hehe, sorry to disappoint you all, but that's as graphic as this story is going to get.  However, for those smut lovers, I am preparing a chapter that will not be posted concerning rather graphic love scene.  Simply ask and ye shall receive.  On a side note, some of you are doubtlessly confused by the ever interchanging of Spyke and Evan.  Allow me to clarify.  Spyke when he's serious, he's a guardian, he's a fighter, or when he's downright pissed.  Evan when he's himself.  Like the X-Men, the codenames are their hero selves.  Since most of the Morlocks don't have codenames (or only have codenames) they're easier to pick for any given situation.

Todd fan: Glad you liked it.

Kukume: Oh definently, mothers always have that sense.  Just like they can sense us raiding the cookie jar.  Thank you for the compliment, I shall store it up in my tree with all the others I'm gathering for winter.  There's one more chapter after this (not counting the special request omitted chapter) but that's it for now.  I'm going to leave the Morlocks to their happy ending and wander off to torment some other characters.

Elrohirthewriter: How about this Callisto/Evan, eh?

Raliena: Glad you like.


	10. X

A few hours or so later, Spyke and Callisto returned to the tribe to reunited with the other Morlocks and Ororo.  The next few days passed uneventfully for them, as the Morlocks enjoyed their time.  None of the tribesmen were afraid of them, long exposure to living with a Goddess had made them immune to the hatred that normally accompanied mutants.  Especially such strange looking ones.  But apart from a strange, curious glance or two, they were treated as everyone else was.  Torpid was even making some friends among the little kids, who kept asking her to join them in their games.

Spyke and Callisto weren't able to enjoy many private moments, especially with the other Morlocks and especially Spyke's aunt watching, so they settled for just friendly talk and heartfelt smiles whenever they saw one another.

Finally the day came when they all had to depart, as the Morlocks boarded the X-Jet with Ororo, giving a final heartfelt good-bye and wave to Nirambo and his people, who'd been most hospitable, and streaked off towards the setting sun and Bayville.

"There's no chance I can convince you to come home, is there?" asked Ororo, addressing Spyke, who sat next to her in the co-pilots seat.  Spyke smiled, glancing back at Callisto briefly before replying.

"Not a snowball's chance in Hell," he replied.  Behind him, Callisto breathed a welcome sigh of relief.  Ororo sighed softly, but nodded, and the Blackbird dropped down on the edge of Bayville, with an entrance to the sewers, where the Morlocks departed.  Spyke and Ororo shared a hug before she took the Blackbird back to the mansion, as the Morlocks headed back into the underbelly of Bayville and made their way back to the Alley, rejoining with Scaleface and the other Morlocks.  Fortunately, apart from some small skirmishes with thugs and beggars fighting over food, the Morlocks had remained unnoticed and out of trouble.  Callisto was glad.

So life returned to a semblance of normalcy for the Morlocks.

With one major difference.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Two weeks later)

"Calliban," stated Callisto.  "Assume temporary command... I am going to investigate the northern tunnels tonight, and I'm taking Spyke with me," she added.  "We'll return by dawn."

Spyke and Callisto vanished as Calliban watched them go, tilting his head curiously.  Those two seemed to always be wandering off for some reason or another, though he could not fathom why.  They must've been discussing something very important.  But like a great many things, Calliban simply did not care, as he returned the dull drudgery of his life.

Only Torpid truly smiled, knowing where they were going, and silently wishing them happiness.  Perhaps, she mused, having Spyke as a father-figure wouldn't be so bad.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evan and Callisto walked side by side down the dark tunnels of the sewers, finally finding a dry spot to just sit down and hold themselves in each other's arms, their lips sealed against one another's.  True, it was hard hiding the knowledge of their relationship from the other Morlocks (except Torpid, who knew but had promised not to tell) but they both decided they weren't ready yet.

Still, that didn't prevent them from finding comfort in each other's presence.  Together they made the smelly, slimy existence of the sewers as bright and beautiful as the wilds of Africa.  As beautiful as an African fire, burning in both their hearts.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Notes:**

*Passes out tissues* True love is so beautiful, isn't it?  Well there you go fans, my first attempt at Romance.  As previously stated, just send me a message if you want to receive that removed chapter between IX and X, and I'll be happy to provide it.  Hope you all enjoyed.

Todd fan: Well thank you, I do try. *gives you Evan and Callisto plushies*

Comet-hime: Excellent news, thanks so much for helping me with fan art.  Don't worry, your Tabitha-Amara will be along as soon as possible.

Amari: Well I'm flattered by the suggestion, but you're too kind.  The XME writers do a splendid job on their own.  Except maybe the twit who did 'Adrift,' but even that had a few cute scenes to save it from being a total loss.

Kukume: Oh I plan to write many more XME stories, I simply love all the characters (except Havoc)

Elrohirthewriter: Well that's all, feel free to ask for the omitted chapter if you really like the Evan/Callisto.


End file.
